Bad Trip
by AshtonCat
Summary: Pre-movie. Frank Crenshaw gets his drink spiked during one evening at the Peppermind Hippo. Fluff.


Chapter: 1

There were people spiking the girls' drinks at a regular base. No one really knew who was behind it, and it never caused any serious situations, apart from the occasional bad trip that resulted in a lot of vomiting and chaos. It was just the deal, if you worked here, you were going to get your drink spiked one way or the other. Sometimes it was a customer with a certain fancy, other times it was girls competing among eachother, handing out dirty tricks to get rid of a rival.

You weren't supposed to spike the customer's drinks. Especially not the drink of an important client like DA Frank Crenshaw. He did his own spiking, sometimes, when he felt like completely losing touch with reality. It usually ended up with him falling asleep in his special chair, surrounded by his favourite ladies. No matter how much he enjoyed the night life the club offered him, he worked hard during the day, and the drugs made him tired. He stuck to his drinks instead. His Vodka, and cocktails.

Among the working girls, there was someone overlooking the safety of their wellbeing. A young woman herself, Sophie didn't exactly fancy her position as a nurse working at a nightclub, but it was good money, and for a good cause too. Her official title was a Certified First Medical Responder, but Joe Miletto called her a nurse no matter what she said anyway. These women needed someone to turn to if there was something the matter with them. The male guards weren't trained to deal with health issues, and they had bigger fish to fry than allowing prostitutes to complain to them. She had been promised protection from touchy clients that took a liking to her, and she was hardly ever bothered while she made her way around the club, taking care of sick girls. Drug overdoses, alcohol poisoning, and all sorts of female issues that returned every month, were part of her evenings.

So when she was called into Crenshaw's personal den one cold November evening, she expected to find a sick woman, and not a sick DA. He had thrown up allover his shirt, pants and part of his table, and sat bend over holding his head in his hands. The girls kept their distance, and he was now flanked by several guards, asking him questions which he didn't answer. One of the dolled up waitresses, a girl for hire too, had been send to get her as quick as possible.

Setting her medical bag aside, having overcome the first wave of surprise and shock at finding out who her patient was, Sophie kneeled down next to the chair. "Mr. Crenshaw?" He didn't look up. "I'm Sophie Miller. I'm here to help you." He shook his head weakly.

"Not now. Can't you see I'm a complete wreck at the moment? No offense but, some other time, maybe.." He spoke softly.

She smiled a little. It wasn't the first time customers had confused her position for a dress up game. Eventhough she just wore her regular clothes. "I'm a medically trained nurse, Mr. Crenshaw. I want nothing from you apart from you answering some questions concerning your current situation. Can you do that for me, sir?"

Now he looked up at her with a dazed and exhausted expression, the thick smell of vomit emanated from him. He blinked at the image in front of him, and squeezed his eyes to narrow slits in an attempt to make sense of the blurry picture that was his view. "I've never seen you before.." He stated in a slurry way. "When did you start working here?"

"A couple of years ago, sir." She answered, rummaging through her pockets for a small flashlight, checking his pupils quickly before he moved his head away again, blinking against the harsh light. "Did you use any drugs tonight?"

He thought about that question for a moment, before swallowing thickly. "No.. I don't think so.. Jesus, I'm gonna be sick.." Taking a step aside, she let him do what his body compelled him to, there was no helping it now. And whatever was pestering him, it was better to get it out of his system anyway. As he threw up again, alcoholic fluids pooling around his feet, she handed him a few tissues, which he gratefully accepted. The music and dancing continued without fail on the background, and she was getting fed up with all the glitter coming down from the ceiling, and the noise that forced her to raise her voice to him in order to make herself audible.

She looked over her shoulder at one of the male guards, making a time out movement. The music stopped with one raise of the man's hand. The dancing ceased, the girls that had been on the stage, left through a thick, velvet curtain, clearly offended by their act being cut short.

As the contracting in his stomach stopped, Crenshaw leaned back in his chair, exhausted and now shivering. "Get my car. I'm going home. I've had enough for tonight." He mumbled to one of his guards, who left immediately to carry out his orders. He looked at the girl, the nurse, preparing a syringe. "I'm not shooting up whatever you got there. That's where I draw the line. Needles." He warned.

"It's to help your body get rid of the rest, sir. I think you accidentally sipped from one of the girls' drinks that were spiked." She explained, tapping against the needle to get rid of the air bubbles in the bright yellow liquid. Her theory made sense. There were so many glasses on his table, he didn't exactly know which one was his, and which ones belonged to the women surrounding him.

"What, is that supposed to make me puke even more?!" He said angrily. "Get this woman out of my sight. I don't feel good enough for her nonsense. Where is my car?" The guards didn't move this time, knowing she was there to help.

"Please, sir." Sophie pleaded. "It's good that your body is rejecting whatever it ingested. You're not reacting well to it." He glared at her cautiously, his eyes moving to the syringe in her hand. "Let me help your body a little to get rid of the rest." The embarrassment at the mess he made in front of his chair and allover himself suddenly hit him full force, and he wiped his mouth with his sleeve impatiently, frustrated with himself. She turned toward the main guard, a man called Carlton, and gave him a pleading look.

"Can someone get like.. a bucket or anything? Something a little more discrete than the floor?" she asked. The man nodded quickly, and made another hand movement to another guard. By now, the flickering lights had stopped, leaving a dim glow much more comfortable to the eyes. The girls that had surrounded the DA, were now standing by the curtain that separated his den from the rest of the club. When the bucket arrived, she gave the attorney an encouraging smile. "Let's get this over with, alright, sir?"

Rubbing his sweated face, he nodded a little, and allowed her to roll up his sleeve to give him the injection. He watched the yellow fluids disappear into his body, and started swallowing thickly seconds later. "It works very fast." She told him. Turning a sickening shade of grey, he bend over the bucket to empty the rest of his tortured stomach. She knew he felt horrible, but she could only be glad to watch him get rid of whatever poison was inside him. As he vomited, someone came to inform Carlton Mr. Crenshaw's car was ready. A little lost at what to do, Carlton simply nodded and waited till his charge had calmed.

Another girl came over to hand Sophie a damp washcloth and a glass of water, and the nurse thanked her kindly for her consideration. They weren't all heartless morons out for money and nothing else. The DA, still dry heaving from the strong medication, was slowly calming, his stomach completely empty. As he leaned back in his chair slowly, panting from the ordeal, she gently dabbed his forehead with the cool cloth. He closed his eyes at the pleasant contact, shivering lightly. It was at this moment Carlton decided to inform the client that his car was ready for departure. Blinking slowly, Crenshaw looked at the girl still dabbing his brow.

"Will you come with me?" He asked, his voice hoarse from the acids. Misinterpreting the meaning of his question, she chuckled a little, amused at his obviously indestructible libido.

"I really am the nurse around here." She informed him calmly. "I don't work as one of the girls. Besides, sir, you should get some rest."

"Can I hire the nurse?" He inquired. "Doing nurse things at my place for a night? I don't want to be alone with this shit you put in me." Still unsure, she looked at Carlton for help, but the man was just as surprised at the attorney's request and just shrugged a little. "How much do they pay you an hour?" Crenshaw continued in his broken voice.

"25 dollars." Sophie answered, helping him take a few sips of the water to soothe his aching throat.

"I'll pay you double if you come with me." He negotiated, giving her a tired look. "Would your professional opinion recommend me being all by myself tonight?" she had to give it to him right there. The risk was almost non-existent, but she knew that drug poisoning could sometimes develop into something worse than just a vomit spree. There was a very small chance he could slip into a coma. If he had been a regular patient at a regular clinic, she would have admitted him, so they could monitor his vitals throughout the night. "Don't be scared of me." He continued gently. "I may be into this sort of stuff, but I'm not a rapist."

"I know you're not anything like that, sir." She told him sternly, although she had to admit the man frightened her a little.

"50 bucks an hour to put me to bed and watch me sleep.. That's not a bad deal, is it? That's a pretty generous offer compared to what you're usually getting for the shit you put up with in this dump." He argued sharply, but stopped when he saw her nervous expression. "No harm done if you don't want to come." He assured her calmly. "I'm a big boy, I can take care of myself, you're right." He reached out for the glass of water, and thanked her quietly when she helped him drink.

"It's not a matter of money, sir." She told him. "I do admit I'm a little uncomfortable with the idea of staying at your home." He nodded, he could understand that, he usually left this place drunk, loud and in the company of atleast two women. Not exactly leaving the impression he was a guy that enjoyed quiet evenings, reading in bed, keeping a respectful distance from women. He came here to pick whatever he felt like having. Her nervousness wasn't that surprising.

"Help me make it more comfortable to you." He suggested tiredly. "Tell me what I can do."

Feeling cornered, she got up from her knees. "I.. I don't know. I'll have to ask Mr. Miletto if he can miss me for tonight. I'm working, sir. I'm supposed to keep an eye on all these girls." She protested. "I'm not sure I'm supposed to just take off like this."

The tired attorney held up his hand in defeat. "Alright, alright.. I get it." Pulling himself into a sitting position slowly, his body aching from the violent vomiting, he tried to readjust his shirt and tie for what it was worth. "Story of my life." He complained bitterly. She reached out for him to help him stand, but he ignored her, feeling too embarrassed to allow himself to be helped. He was going to save whatever dignity he had left, and leave this place on his own two feet, unsteady as his legs might be. Stretching painfully to his full height, and pulling on his coat stiffly, he gave her a small smile. "Between you and me.." He started, keeping his voice down so only she could hear him. "I could never get the nice girls to like me very much." He confessed with a sheepish smile.

She frowned at his words. "Sir, this has nothing to do with me liking you or not.." she argued gently, but he stopped her with his hand again, chuckling awkwardly.

"I know." He assured her. "Thank you for.." He turned to look at his barf covered chair, the floor a mess, and half of it on his white shirt. He wrinkled his nose in disgust, smelling himself now his mind was clearing up. "Assisting me." He decided on saying, although he wasn't sure it was the right choice of words. She was about to say something in return, when Mr. Miletto entered the dim lit den, pulling the curtains away roughly, and followed by three shades wearing guards.

"What the hell is going on in here?" he started angrily, halting close to the nurse and the attorney. "I just had a chick burst into my office and telling me in broken English that you were making an absolute mess of yourself in here." He continued, and peered around the DA at the vomit covered chair. He made a face. "I guess she was right. What's the deal, Frank?"

Annoyed, Crenshaw took a deep breath, preparing himself to explain the situation. "Apparently there's drugs going around in this place that I accidentally ingested." He started. "I think it's safe to say your nurse saved my life." Sophie swallowed thickly, as the attention was turned to her, feeling Miletto's sharp eyes burn into her skull.

"Well, Jesus, what the hell did you take?!" Miletto started, taking a closer look at the floor surrounding the chair, the bucket halfway filled with fluids of unidentifiable nature. " of course there's drugs going around, but it aint supposed to make you redecorate the goddamn place!"

Now Sophie decided to step in. "It's known to me that the girls sometimes spike their own, or eachother's drinks, for whatever reason. It might be possible Mr. Crenshaw accidentally ingested some of it that was supposed to knock out one of the girls." She explained to her boss, who just gazed at her in confusion.

"What?" He asked impatiently.

"It's a competition thing." She continued. "It's been going on for a while now."

"And why wasn't I informed about any of this?!" Miletto snarled angrily. "These chicks are trying to poison eachother, get one of my clients fucked up, and I don't know about it?!"

"I was going to tell you after my shift." She said calmly. "I made the girls a promise I wouldn't, but since the situation escalated.."

Miletto shrugged mockingly. "Oh, oh you think it escalated?! You damn right it did! Your job is to make sure these chicks stay fresh, and preferably behave accordingly as well. That's your job, Sophie!" she said nothing, and looked at the floor instead. Joe Miletto never did her any harm, but he had a sharp way of speaking if he was angry or excited about something. Thankfully, he turned his attention back to the attorney.

"You alright? You need a doctor or anything? I can get you one that'll keep his mouth shut about all of this." He offered, but Crenshaw shook his head.

"I don't think that's necessary. I'm feeling alright now. After she.. she gave me something to get rid of the rest." He explained.

"The rest?" Miletto asked with a disgusted expression. "What the hell did she do to you? Shoved a toothbrush in the back of your throat?" when no one answered, the mob boss sighed exasperatedly, fed up with just about everyone in the room. "On second thought, don't answer that, I don't want to know."

"I'll be going home now." The DA explained. "I've seen quite enough for tonight."

"Mr. Crenshaw asked if I could accompany him." Sophie started, receiving a mildly surprised look from the attorney. "He's willing to double my hourly wage for a night." The expression on Miletto's face went from confusion to anger. "He just wants me to keep an eye on him, Joe. I gave him a pretty strong dose."

"I might be in need of more medical attention.." Crenshaw explained dryly. But his statement seemed to make matters even worse.

"Wow, now wait a minute." Miletto interrupted. "Time out, what is going on here?" Placing his hands in his sides, he shifted his weight, and eyed both the girl and the client. "Hey, that is not part of this girl's job. If you like things wrapped in a sweater, fine, I can get you anything you like. But this girl isn't trained for any of that. She's literally what she fucking said she was, a nurse!"

"I know that." Crenshaw tried, chuckling nervously. "And she's a very good nurse. I like her company. She's been very helpful, and I thought I.."

"Well, you thought wrong." Miletto told him sternly. "She's not for hire. I need her here." His tone had gotten more soft, and if she didn't know him any better, she would have thought it sounded almost protective. "End of discussion." He continued, and turned to her. "The hell is wrong with you." He hissed.

"It's nothing like that." The DA tried awkwardly. "I won't touch her, Joe, I promise."

Mocking his surprise, his eyes widened, the club owner nodded. "Oh, you promise, don't you? Listen to me, mister district attorney, I think it's best you leave now. And feel free to take whatever catches your fancy on your way out. Next week, same time, same place, we'll clean your chair, and everything will be absolutely fucking dandy dozy again!"

"It might be better if I go with him." Sophie announced, causing the room to go quiet, and all eyes to point her way. "Double the wage, Joe. You know I need it. This is about making sure that whatever he got into his system, won't cause any serious problems. He's not in any shape to do anything else.."

Looking absolutely stunned, Miletto's eyes went from his young nurse to his most important client. "What about these chicks?!" He asked exasperated. "You know Stacey is working tonight. What if she starts shooting up again like last week?! I can't miss you tonight! I don't have time to deal with overdosed whores, Sophie! I got work to do!"

"Stacey is recovering from her addiction since two months, Joe! What she took last week was something I gave her to clear her head before work!" she protested.

"I really need to go home.." The DA complained tiredly, having no reserves to continue this conversation. "I can't.. do this right now." Feeling unsteady on his legs, Carlton reached out to his boss, supporting his arm gently.

Miletto rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Oh for God's sakes, Frank! Stop acting like you're dying! It's a fucking bad trip, not a lost limb! Go home and sleep it off!" As he tried to approach the DA to enforce his words, Sophie got in between the two men, shielding the ailing attorney from her frustrated employer.

"Joe, calm down. He really doesn't feel good." She pleaded gently, and was surprised when it seemed to work. "What if I ask Belinda to keep an eye on things? You know she did that first aid course a couple of weeks ago, so she could assist me. If she agrees to take over for tonight, will you let me go?"

Throwing his hands up in the air in dramatic defeat, Miletto started laughing mockingly. "I can't fucking win this, can I?!" He called out. "You got your mind made up about going with him, don't you? You know what he is? You know the kind of shit he orders from me?! You want to go home with that?! You want to be that fucking stupid, you go ahead and do it! But don't you come back here complaining he did something you didn't like, you got me?! Now get out of my sight, both of you!" With that being said, the club owner turned on his heels and left the den with his guards. Going through the velvet curtain, he passed one of the girls Crenshaw always picked to have around, a woman who had accompanied him home more than once. She gave Miletto a judgemental look as he walked by, and made her way across the room to the nurse.

"Don't mind him." She told the young girl, fidgeting with the collar of her sweater. "Frank aint that bad." She continued, giving the attorney a daring smile and a wink while she chewed her gum. "I can give you atleast ten others names that are much, much worse, kitten." She gave the nurse a genuine smile, cupping her cheeks, and leaned close to her ear. "You get fed up with him, you just start kneading his shoulders and he'll be out like a light in a second." She whispered.

Sophie blushed, and cleared her throat nervously. "I'm just going with him to make sure he doesn't choke on his own vomit.." she told the woman, chuckling bitterly. "Not really back scratching material."

The blond woman just bared her pearly white teeth in a bright smile, her gum visible as she chewed with her mouth open. "I know my kitten." She said kindly, playing with the young girl's brown hair affectionately. "Always ready to help some lost puppy find its way back home." She looked up to meet the DA's eyes. "Take it easy on her, Frank. That's our kitten you're taking home." Crenshaw just frowned in annoyance, but made no remark. As the blond woman took her leave, Sophie turned to her patient.

"Let's get you home, sir." She told him. He nodded, and allowed her to take his arm from Carlton, following his guards to the club's exit, where his car was waiting in the dark, empty streets. The driver didn't need instructions, and the DA could rest his head back for a moment as the car made its way home.

TBC…

R&R please!


End file.
